


I wanna get high and listen to The Cure all night

by David_Dave_Davey



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Illustrated, M/M, Multi, jory's weed girlfriends post, shit post, there arnt really drug mentions but like. its a parody of a weed post so like? be aware?, this is more for me then anything else, this is not funny., tim does die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:35:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27495064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/David_Dave_Davey/pseuds/David_Dave_Davey
Summary: Jon: My two boyfriends. And yes, they are end avatars.
Relationships: Oliver Banks/Gerard Keay/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 11
Kudos: 22





	I wanna get high and listen to The Cure all night

Jon: My two boyfriends. And yes, they are end avatars.

Tim: do they serve the end?

Jon: Yes, actually.

Melanie: you mean he isnt just an avatar? but a avatar of the end?

Jon: They're called a goth…. Not just avatars of the end… And yes, they are goth. They all terrorize people with the reality of death before we kiss. (They are my boyfriends,)

Elias: They don't look like they're end avatars.

Jon: Fuck You.  
Fuck You.  
Fuck You.  
Fuck You.  
Fuck You.  
Fuck You.  
Fuck You.  
Fuck You.  
Fuck You.  
Fuck You.  
Fuck You.  
Fuck You.  
I’m so angry you are so lucky my two end avatar boyfriends are rubbing my shoulders to calm me down I’m so mad.

Basira: Your "end avatar boyfriend" has an eye tattoo on his belly. The one in the middle.

Jon: I printed out a photo of your icon and taped it to my wall that I Behold and I mutter your URL with every Beholding I See you twerp…. Don’t ever Talk about Gerry or the wicked Tat(tattoo) I drew on him ever again I Don’t wanna see you standing outside my archive at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again ok leave us alone this is the FINAL FUCKING WARNING 

Daisy: Well that escalated quickly......

Jon: What, was that? Hmm? Come again. *Oliver grabs my shoulder Come on Jon, they aren’t worth it, please. * I jerk my shoulder shaking his hand off* NO! NOOOOO!!! *starts to just Behold you with my big fucking eyes. With each Look I let out a furious yell. The Eyes come quicker and harder and the yells get louder. I’m yelling so loud and now I’m crying. BREAKING POINT. The week was hard and I can’t take anymore. I’m opening sobbing at this point while you blood gurgle. All twoof my boyfriends struggle to pull me off and they finally succeed and lead me away from the goo pile that is now your body*

Peter: haha oh my god

who even is this dude? someone needs some anger management classes.

love how he keeps reminding us that "I HAVE TWO BOYFRIENDS", "THEY ALL KISS ME", AND "THEY ARE END AVATARS HURRP DURR"

and let's not forget the "Gerry" and his "wicked tat". or that he doesn't "wanna see you standing outside [his] home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again", and that this is "the FINAL FUCKING WARNING"

"the goo pile that is now your body"

i'm dying over here, jesus

please, Jon, come challenge me to a bout of avatar witticisms; i promise, it'll be fun

Jon: *Beholds you dead* Heh, idiot…  
*leaves with my two end avatar boyfriends to go hold hands and kiss.*

tim: this dude playin omg

Jon: Come again? *The bar falls silent. No one dares to make a sound, as you have just said a very poor choice of words at a very dangerous time. I remain slumped over the bar, not looking back to you. One hand limply holding an almost empty bottle, the other hand cradling my head. I repeat the question, this time louder.* Come again?! *You can hear me slur the words, the sentence sounds like a real struggle for me to get out. I’m clearly intoxicated. A bead of sweat rolls down your face as you realize you might have just fucked up in a very major way. Everyone else in the bar is pretending to not notice what is going on. The bartender idly washes a mug with a cloth. His eyes are closed and he’s muttering something to himself. A handful of people hurriedly leave. One person looks back at you, a look of sorrow on their face. They almost say something, but shake their head and cast their eyes down to the floor, and leave. But not you. You stand, petrified. A quick look at me reveals I’m still at the bar. You look to the exit, there’s still time. But there’s not, there’s not, there’s not. Your fate was sealed the moment you opened your mouth.* Mother fuck.. what did you say?! *I slowly rise from my stool and being to lumber over to you. I look a mess. My hair is unkempt and greying, I haven’t shaved in what looks like months, there are dark heavy bags under my eyes, my shirt is stained and has holes in it, I'm covered in scars, and I’m missing a shoe. But the main thing you notice is the extra eyes all over me, and my massive eyes that look like they were made for Beholding. You know that song about the boots that were made for walking? Yeah, it’s like that only instead of boots it’s my eyes and instead of walking it’s Beholding. As I drunkenly sway over to you, you think of your family… Will they mourn you, or will they try and forget this blotch of stupidity, that their child insulted _the_ Jarchivist publicly, ever happened to their family? Your thoughts are cut short as I now stand face to face with you. I grab your face and pull you even closer.* _Playin?!_ There was nothing playing… no playing you fuck. No playing… it was real.. the realest thing I’ve ever know.. felt… Love. I loved them… Gerry…. Oliver… I loved both of em… but they…*My face is wet with tears and I’m blinking constantly in vain to hold them back.* They left me… left… *Almost instantly the sadness leaves my face and is replaced with pure anger.* _Playin?_ **Playin?!** *My hand leaves your face and starts to head to what you think is my smiting eyes. You close your eyes and see The Entities looking at you, shrugging. ‘Pft, you brought this upon yourself dude.’ They says as they wave their hands at you dismissively. But instead of my eyes, my hands grab yours. Your eyes jolt open and the anger is gone from my face. There is only sadness.* Left me… * I fall to the floor and sob.*  


Wow, grow up. *You say before you leave the bar but are hit almost immediately from a car and are killed upon impact.*

**Author's Note:**

> i want to write an actually gerry/jon/oliver fic bc i love the concept of a goth sandwich. yet my sinful hands can only create this shitty content.  
> kudos, bookmarks, and comments mean the literal world
> 
> title from Get High and Listen to the Cure by the mountain goats bc i have a fucking theme


End file.
